Uncoverups (by Sexghosts)
by CatandKaraForever
Summary: NOT MY WORK!


**Uncoverups (by Sexghosts)  
Rating: T for mild language  
** **NOT MY WORK!**

Winn was backing out of the office. Cat looked sharply up at Kara. "Rules, Kara!" she snapped. Kara stood frozen for a minute. Cat jerked her head toward Winn's rapidly disappearing silhouette. "Go! Handle it!"

Kara went scampering out the door after him, into the rows of the bullpen. "Winn!" she called, jogging between desks and dodging chairs. She easily caught up with him after a couple of strides and put a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged her off and spun around, his eyes disappointed and hurt. "Traffic manager, huh?"

And Kara felt that crushing feeling in her chest, the one that Cat had warned her about, of someone whose opinion she valued assuming that her promotion had come because of her changed relationship with Cat. "Winn, she promoted me because I asked for more responsibility."

Which was true.

He looked at her with those reproachful eyes, the same ones she'd seen when he'd walked in on her innocently hugging James. "And is that before or after you got … like _that_?" he demanded, gesturing toward the office.

"Winn, that's not how it went… It's not what you think!"

Winn shook his head in disgust and kept walking away. "The worst part is that you didn't even tell us - you didn't tell _me––_ what was going on."

"Winn, can you just listen?!" she called after him. But then her phone rang; it was Alex, and it could be an emergency. She sighed heavily and picked it up.

"Alex, I have a problem," she said quickly.

"Well, so do we. We think we know where your aunt is hiding and we need you to come look at these schematics." There was a beat of quiet. "What's the matter?"

Kara sighed, watching Winn's back disappear toward the elevators where he was pacing uncomfortably back and forth. "Winn knows about me and Cat."

Alex paused, and then sighed wearily. It was that sigh that Kara recognized as the _I told you this was a bad idea but I'm not going to say I told you so_ sigh. "How?"

"Ugh, Cat and I were working late, red-teaming this story on a government cover-up about life on Mars, and nobody was around, or so I thought, and I just–"

"Please tell me you weren't having sex on her desk."

"God! No! But we were just a little bit... close … you know, affectionate, that's all. Nobody was supposed to be around, and–"

"And you broke your own rules–"

"Well, yeah. But anyway, he walked in and he saw us and it was pretty obvious he was upset and he ran off and now he's awkwardly pacing by the elevator like I'm supposed to pretend not to see him, and–"

Alex's voice suddenly became sharp. "Wait, you were red-teaming a story about what?"

Kara was thrown off. "Uh, a government cover-up about life on Mars. Alex, why do you–?"

"Kara, you have to kill that story," Alex cut her off. Her sister sounded urgent.

"What?"

"You _have_ to kill it."

"Alex, this thing with Winn… I don't… why are you asking me to kill this story?"

Alex sighed. "You better come down to the DEO."

Cat stood with her hands on her hips in the middle of her kitchen. Kara was standing in her Supergirl gear, giving her a pleading look.

"What do you mean, kill the story?" Cat demanded.

Alex had confirmed the truth; yes, there was indeed life on Mars, or had been, and yes, the DEO and the NSA were covering it up. Kara could have found something to poke holes in, maybe, since she'd spent so many hours with it already. But Cat would see right through her, probably.

Furthermore, Hank, as it turned out, was a shape-shifting alien from Mars. Alex showed her all the proof in the world that the story was true, trying to make her see why she needed to kill it. "Life on Mars" would lead to the DEO, to Hank, to Hank's enemies, to the people who would see Earth crushed just to get to him. It simply wasn't safe to publish this information. Not for Hank, not for Cat, and not for Earth.

"Look, Cat. It's true. It's all true. But it's not safe for this information to be out there. It puts not just you and me, not just our families and friends, but literally everyone in danger."

"I'm assuming you're telling me this so that I can tell your sister to fuck off myself," Cat snapped. "Because you don't want to do it?"

Kara agonized for a moment. "Cat … it's just … we need to think about the repercussions of this before we run with it." She took a deep breath. "I mean … it's not like the DEO will go along quietly if you run it…. I'm worried because they have the ability to manufacture contradictory evidence and then I don't want to think about what happens to Shazia's reputation, and CatTV's…." Kara trailed off.

Cat's face was cold and furious, a look Kara hadn't had the misfortune of seeing in quite some time. She stepped closer to Kara, and Kara backed up. When Cat wanted to, she could seem ten feet tall. "Kara. Journalism is about telling people the truth."

"I know," Kara said, her voice breaking a little.

"It sounds like you're blackmailing me."

"I'm not."

"You have to decide whether you want to be a journalist or an alien crimefighter. Because you've got a little conflict of interest now, Kara Zor-El Danvers."

Kara bit her lip. "Cat, this is your company, and your story. Yours and Shazia's. I just fact-checked it and am telling you beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything in it is true. I've done my job as a journalist."

Cat said nothing, simply staring back at her coldly.

"But now I have to do my job as the alien crime fighter and tell you that maybe you want to sit on it for a little while," Kara concluded.

Cat shook her head. "I thought you had more integrity than this."

Those words pierced Kara down to her gut. "Cat…" she began to protest, her eyes welling up.

"I think you should go, Kara. Think about this a little bit and we'll talk in the morning when you come to work."

Kara flew toward home, the wind pushing her tears back in cold streaks. Integrity. That was a difficult and vague word lately. She was lying to most of the world about being Supergirl. She was lying to pretty much all of her friends about her relationship with Cat. She was, she realized, lying to herself a great deal about what both of those things meant to her - who she was, and how she thought of herself. She felt fragmented, scattered, and torn in a dozen different directions. Was she a journalist, after all? If she was, how could she possibly be asking Cat to cover up a story this big? Or was she Supergirl? Cat had said to her once that she didn't need to think of Kara Danvers and Supergirl as divorced parents that she had to choose between, but that's exactly how she felt right now. Because the journalist said "run with the story" and the hero said "that's a terrible idea."

If she gave in and let Cat run the story was she betraying her own mission as a hero? And would she be doing that because she was, in her heart, a journalist, or because in the end, it was what her lover wanted?

For all the ground rules that she and Cat had laid out, there was nothing in them about this.

Vera Rosensweig was in her bathrobe, drinking a chamomile tea and watching the Daily Show, preparing to turn in for the night when she heard a tap at the window. This was extremely odd, because she lived on the tenth floor and this particular window did not have a fire escape. She got up, shuffled over, and pulled up the shade only to find National City's own Girl of Steel floating in midair outside her apartment. She pushed the sash a little way up and rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things. "Supergirl, I presume?"

Kara nodded. "Dr. Rosensweig?"

Rosensweig nodded. "Yes. But it's a little past office hours and I don't generally take new patients in my home, in my bathrobe." But she paused a few beats, looked at the distress on the young hero's face, and sighed. She pushed the window all the way open. "Alright, come in. But I don't have all night."

Kara floated in through the window and settled gently on the Persian rug. She looked around, smelling the incense and taking note of all the vaguely tribal-looking knick-knacks and dream-catchers and such that festooned the warm, comfortable room. She wondered whether her office was like this, too. She had a little trouble picturing Cat in an environment like that, and a small smile involuntarily curled her lips for a moment.

Rosensweig looked around and then gestured toward the couch. "Have a seat, if you in fact do that whole sitting down thing."

Kara perched herself on the edge of the sofa, her hands squeezing anxiously at the burgundy velvet cushions.

"So?" Rosensweig asked after a moment. "Why me?"

"Your reputation precedes you," Kara answered.

"Well, so does yours. You ever been to therapy? Did they have that on Krypton?"

Kara paused. "I don't know. I've been to therapy on Earth, but not this kind. More like… physical therapy."

"Hm," was all Rosensweig said.

Kara fidgeted for a moment, and then began. "I'm just… I feel pulled in so many directions at once. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. And it's everything. It's my job–"

"You mean being Supergirl?"

"Yeah, that, but also my regular job."

Rosensweig nodded and smirked. "You have a day gig."

Kara nodded. "It keeps me human. And, it's something that I take seriously and feel is important. But it's come into direct conflict with my responsibilities as a superhero."

Rosensweig thought for a moment. "That's difficult. What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

Kara hesitated. "I'd rather not say."

Rosensweig nodded. "Alright. Therapy's harder when you don't share, but in your case, I understand."

"Thank you." Kara sat for a moment, kicking at the edge of the Persian rug with the red leather toe of her boot. "Anyway, it gets worse. I'm in love with my boss. I mean, we're in a relationship. And she wants me to do the right thing for my job, even though it's not the right thing for me as Supergirl."

"Does she know that it causes that conflict?"

"You mean … yeah. She knows. She knows I'm Supergirl. And she knows the possible repercussions of what she wants me to do. She's questioning my integrity in the job because I'm resisting doing this thing."

"How many people in your day-job life know that you're Supergirl?"

"Most people don't know. And most people don't know me and–" She almost said _me and Cat_ , and that would have been bad. "–and my boss are together either. She says we're being discreet, whatever that means, but it feels like a nice way of saying we're sneaking around, and I'm tired of that. It makes me feel like she's ashamed of me, or like I'm supposed to be ashamed of us."

Rosensweig looked at her sympathetically. "You have family?"

"A foster mother and sister."

"They know you're gay?"

" _I_ don't know if I'm gay! I just know I'm in love with this woman and I don't want to sneak around about it anymore. I just want to enjoy it, be happy in it, and let people be happy for me."

"As Supergirl? Or as your mild-mannered alter-ego?"

Kara stopped. She didn't know the answer.

Rosensweig sipped at her tea and looked Kara over for a few moments, considering her. "Look, there's a lot to unpack here, but you have multiple identities that are all asking very different things of you; superhero you, workaday stiff you, relationship you, single you, gay you, "not-gay" you…" She looked her over for another moment. "Sometimes you have to take the puzzle apart and put it back together to figure out what it's supposed to look like."

Kara folded her arms, not in that disdainful way that Cat often used, but more as a defensive measure. "You mean, stop being some of those things and see how I feel about it?"

Rosensweig waved noncommittally. "Maybe. Whatever it means to you. Take a step back. Re-evaluate."

Kara frowned. It was good big-picture advice, she supposed, if a little vague. "What about my current dilemma?"

Rosensweig shrugged. "Well, I don't know enough about the details and you don't seem to want to divulge. I'm assuming because you can't, for… reasons… but…" She pursed her lips and looked Kara over one more time. "But really, the same principle applies. Step back and look at the pieces. Do right as far as you can do it. And know that some things are out of your hands. Even Supergirl has limits, right?"

It was frustrating to admit, but Rosensweig was right. Cat hadn't been kidding. She really _was_ good.

Kara arrived before seven the next morning. She had tried calling Winn a couple of times last night but he hadn't picked up. Cat arrived, shades on, expressionless, but moving with less of her usual conspicuous panache as she made her way from the elevator to her office. Her new assistant was hovering near the office door with a latte that, on Kara's good advice, she'd warmed for a few seconds in the breakroom microwave. After Cat sat down at her desk with it, looking beautiful as ever but a little pale, Kara made her way into the office and pushed the door shut behind her.

"You've done a halfway decent job training Sandra, she's at least managing to deliver my lattes hot," was all Cat said. She leafed through some spreads without looking up.

"Cat…" Kara began, hands clasped behind her back. "Look, I… I did my job as a journalist last night. And if there are repercussions, I'm going to do my best to do my job as Supergirl to keep them from harming anyone."

Cat still didn't look up. "You don't need to worry. You won't need to save Earth from angry Martians or whatever it is. I'm shelving the story for the moment."

Kara's mouth hung open. She wasn't expecting this. "But, what about–"

"I wasn't done," Cat cut her off. "It's not fair to expect you to greenlight a story that will most likely result in you having to defend Earth from god knows what. I'm also sending you to work at the Paris bureau, effective immediately."

Kara felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Like the ground underneath her was crumbling away. All at once she felt claustrophobic and unmoored, lost in space. She figured this was going to be something difficult they'd have to work through but it hadn't crossed her mind that Cat would ever think of sending her away. "What?"

"The city could use a little Supergirl-style _sunshine–"_ What was it in her voice when she leaned on that word? Bitterness? "–and according to your resume, you do speak French – unless you were lying about that?"

Kara shook her head. "Of course not, Cat–"

Finally, Cat pushed her glasses up and looked at her. "I've been asking too much of you, Kara. And that's not fair. But, you still need a job, and CatCo has one for you as a traffic manager in the CatTV Paris news bureau."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Kara whispered, her throat closing.

"I'm saying this relationship has been testing our integrity - both of ours - in more ways than one, and we need to give ourselves a little distance to figure out what's right. I'm not leaving you in the lurch, Kara. I'm placing you in Paris, in a CatCo apartment, and giving you a job while you're there."

Kara struggled. She couldn't imagine not seeing Cat every day, impishly teasing her in her bad moods, shielding poor Sandra from her quickness with the verbal hatchet, bickering about the choices of cover shots for the Sunday magazine. She couldn't imagine not having James and Winn right around the corner to lean on when things got to be too much. But it was mostly just Cat, everyday Cat, getting lunch together in the downstairs atrium and conspicuously not touching over the table, grabbing after-work drinks at the steakhouse, Cat and her tart tongue and flawless hair and glasses worn on top of glasses and M&M's that she would sometimes share with Kara, and _only_ Kara, without being asked.

"And I know," Cat went on, "that you could easily come flying back to drop in on me whenever you want, but I don't want you to do that."

"How long am I going to be there?" Kara felt suddenly like she was being cut loose in the world, abandoned, again. Back in that tiny pod, with her world collapsing behind her. Alone.

"We'll see," Cat said. Her tone was frosty but Kara could see that she was torn up by saying these things. "I love you Kara, but it takes more than that for something to work."

 _Take a step back,_ Rosensweig had said. Maybe this was the right thing. It sure didn't feel particularly right. Her fingers went cold and numb. Maybe this was the answer, because things still, after all this time, didn't feel like they completely fit. _Take apart the pieces and put them back together._


End file.
